


The Diner at the End of the Universe

by Siderion



Series: Automata [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Technology, Angst and Humor, Coffee, Diners, Family, First Meetings, Flirting, Friendship, Gen, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siderion/pseuds/Siderion
Summary: Tony meets Clara in a Diner at the End of the Universe.He also finds hope in a mug of coffee.





	1. The Diner at the End of the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write for the MCU for quite a while now. Infinity Wars was the right occasion to write about some of my favourite Doctor Who companions at the same time.
> 
> This instalment happens right after Watch me run, the first part of Automata. It's not necessary to read it, it just gives more insight into Clara and Jack (who has yet to appear). Watch me run itself also is part of Cuckoo Clock, a strictly Doctor Who-series that gives even more insight into Jack and Clara.
> 
> No knowledge of Doctor Who needed, but I don't think it'll be easy to follow if you don't have any knowledge of the MCU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:** Hands of the Fate

The loud whirring sound stirred Tony from his lethargy. He rose to his feet, looking around for the source of the noise. From a corner of his eyes, he saw the alien lady do the same, Blue, he had decided since they still hadn’t exchanged names and she was, well, blue all over, both of them instantly alert.   
  
His gauntlet half-formed around his right hand, partly destroyed by his fight against Thanos but in much better shape than his left one, burnt and bloody. The repulsor blast wouldn’t be of much use but Tony was sure it could pack enough of a punch to knock someone back and give Tony some time to think, very fast, of a plan to get out in one piece if whatever was coming was hostile.   
  
The noise grew louder, closer while his vision flickered. He didn’t allow himself to hope too much, after the ashes Thanos had left in his wake, Tony was sure things could get worse. Even without counting Thanos, the experiences of passing years had taught him. He had to close his eyes when a sensation akin to motion sickness took him.  
  
“What the _fuck_?!” Blue exclaimed as the nausea eventually receded the moment the eerie sound vanished.  
  
He immediately opened his eyes.  
  
What the fuck, indeed.  
  
They were standing what could only be described as a typical American diner. The floor was chess-patterned, a row of empty tables and red booths on his left. On his right, a long counter and barstools. At the end of the diner, a brown door with a man holding a guitar painted over it probably leading to the kitchen. He turned around, looking at the glass doors and windows leading outside. Beyond was the graveyard of metal skeletons and brown rocks, the sky bathed in a yellow light, that had became depressingly familiar.  
  
“What's happening?” Tony asked the alien lady who had retreated to the diner entrance door and opened it, peering outside. She didn’t get out though.  
  
Her head snapped in her direction with a distinctly mechanical sound. “Do I look like I know?” she snarled, black eyes staring at him and an particularly unpleasant expression on her face.  
  
“Hey! Don’t snap at me.” He brought his hands up in a defensive position. “You never know. I mean, It’s my first rodeo in s—” He paused, images of black filled with an army filling his field of view. He blinked the memory away, correcting himself, “On an alien planet.”  
  
“The outside is still Titan,” Blue said after a while. “As far as I can see, no threat incoming from that side. I've no idea what we're fucking idea what we're in though. A food-related place I guess?”  
  
“The inside is an American diner.”  
  
“American diner?”  
  
The confusion in her voice reminding Tony that she was an alien. “America is a place on Earth, that’s where I’m from. Lots of great greasy and processed food. I love it,” he informed her. “It doesn’t explain why we’re standing in a middle of a diner though.”  
  
He reached out to the nearest object, putting the palm of his hand flat against the countertop. It was cool and polished, solid and hard against his touch when he pressed. It felt _real_. Wanda’s vision had felt real too, he reminded himself. Tony wondered if it had came to pass, if it was what was waiting for them once they had managed to get back to Earth. Was there even an Earth to return to or had Thanos’ minions burnt it to ashes in their search for the Mind Stone? And, of course. He closed his eyes. Thanos had managed to put his plan in place. That could only mean that Vision too was go—  
  
The door, the one leading to the back of the diner opened.  
  
Behind him, he heard Blue move but didn’t pay attention to her. The person who entered looked human, a woman in her twenties with shoulder-length brown hair. She was wearing black tights under a flower-patterned dark green dress, an emerald jacket thrown over it. Overall, very Earthly modern clothing, the kind that was comfortable without looking like a slob.  
  
He felt himself relax just a little bit, because she could have been walking down the street to go to work; she didn’t seem like a fighter nor did she have weapons that he could see. She didn’t look hostile either so that was a good thing.  
  
“Hello there,” she said with a smile, her cheeks dimpling. It was almost as cute as the distinctly British accent. At least, until he was reminded of Vision, then he winced.  
  
When she stepped into the room, Tony expected her to fade to ashes like P— he shut that train of thoughts. She didn’t disappear. Instead, she walked to the other side of the counter while fishing a hair tie she used to pin her hair into a messy ponytail. “Are you okay?”  
  
The absurdity of both the question and the situation made Tony laugh, dry, crazed and mean. He couldn’t stop it. It soon morphed into a wheezing sound that slowly died away.  
  
“Sorry, that was stupid of me. Come on, sit down.”   
  
She used both hands to pat the counter, in front of her, her tone authoritative. Tony had the feeling that she was used to be in control. He didn’t mind following her order for now so he slipped into a barstool, hiding a wince as his body protested at the movements.  
  
“Come on, Blue, you too,” she added. Tony smirked at the fact she had used the same nickname as he had. The lack of surprise or judgment she had at Blue’s appearance, as if she was used to see aliens, was also noted and stored it in a corner of his mind for further examination later.  
  
“Nebula.” Blue scowled. Still, she sat next to Tony, much to both his relief and unease. “My name is Nebula, not Blue.”  
  
“I didn’t know your name until now though,” the woman answered smoothly. “Nice to meet you, Nebula. I’m Clara.” She turned to him then. He caught the slight frown when her eyes went to his nano-particles housing. It was soon replaced by curiosity. “And you?”  
  
“Tony.” He didn’t bother with the family name as she hadn’t given hers. Did she even had one?  
  
As she turned her back to them, he slouched forward, crossing his arms on the countertop. He rested his head on his forearm. While observing her beginning to make coffee, Tony found himself wondering if she was like Quill, a human who had somehow managed to find her way to space or if she was an alien in human-clothing.  
  
“You from Earth too?”  
  
“Yes. We moved to London when I was young, but I was born in Blackpool and you can’t take that out of me. I still have the accent. Now though.” She stilled, then turned to face them. A small smile graced her face when she continued, “I’m travelling the stars with my ship and my grand crew of three people, me included. If you can consider that a crew. Still, that’s one more person than I’m used to.” The last part was a whisper that Tony wasn’t sure was addressed to them. She sounded wistful, like an old woman reminiscing about long lost times. “You’re welcome to join, of course. I mean, we can drop you off wherever you want.”  
  
“This is your ship?” Nebula sounded incredulous.   
  
Tony agreed. It certainly didn’t look like one. There was no sense in designing a _spaceship_ , or any vehicle of any kind for that matter, with an opening to the outside that was a restaurant. He eyed the glass suspiciously, not quite sure they could even withstand the heating and cooling of entering and existed the atmosphere.  
  
Tony couldn’t help himself, really this was nonsense and he informed her, “I can’t believe for one second that this can go through space. Or even lift itself off the ground. Trust me, I’m an engineer, the best there is. On Earth anyway. There’s no way that diner is a spaceship. It looks like a very fine diner, but I don’t believe for one second it can fly.”  
  
Still, Clara’s lips curled up and she chuckled all the while moving to pour coffee into two mugs, holding them out. “Here, done. Take it. It’s on the house.” Nebula took hers without complain.  
  
“Don’t held things at me, I don’t like being handed things.”   
  
Although she quirked an eyebrow at him, she put it on the counter. Tony swooped it with his right hand, holding onto it like a lifeline, pointedly ignoring the ash stains his fingers left on the white porcelain. He inhaled the smell with eagerness then took a slip. The hot bitterness burnt his throat as he swallowed. If painful, he found it appropriate. It also made him feel a little bit less numb. Clara laughed at him, but it didn’t sound mean-spirited.   
  
“Of course the Diner can fly, we wouldn’t have arrived here otherwise,” she pointed out, walking to the back door, stopping in front of it, her body angled to face them. “Chop chop, you two. Let me introduced you to the rest of the crew and show you how great my ship is.”  
  
She raised her other hand in his direction, palm up. “Trust me, Tony, it’s gonna be amazing.”  
  
Tony eyed it suspiciously, narrowing his eyes when she began wiggling her fingers. “Do I look like I’m the hand-holding type?”  
  
“You’re not. It doesn’t mean I care.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, are you afraid?” she insisted, the wiggling becoming even more ridiculous. “Where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just for a second.”  
  
When he looked at her face, he thought he saw the stars in the brown of eyes that seemed bigger than before, large enough to contain an universe. He scowled at the silliness of his thoughts.  
  
“Are you finished with this nonsense? Just do what she says so we can move on,” Nebula said from behind him.   
  
He ignored her. Still, he reached out with his free hand, because she wasn’t wrong. He felt like Clara was bossy and determined enough not to bulge until she got what she wanted. Just like Steve, his mind unhelpfully supplied. At least, nothing bad should come out of such an insignificant action. He hoped.  
  
When he put his limp hand into hers, she didn’t seem to mind to blood and ash it left there. He was thankful that she didn’t try to squeeze it or anything else, because that would have made things painful and even more awkward for Tony.   
  
“You should be really really thankful, Diner Girl. It’s like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of miracle. Really, I’m not sold on the whole handholding schtick, not even with Pepper and we’re engaged.”   
  
He carefully did _not_ think of what might have happened to her. Instead he stared at Clara, moving so they stood side by side. She gently guided his hand to the handle before she put hers over it, almost touching but not quite.  
  
“All of time and space in the palm of your hands, Tony. How does that sound?”  
  
He didn’t know if she was serious when saying that all of time and space were within grasp or if it was some kind of poetic metaphoric bullshit, so he looked at her face. She was grinning, her big brown eyes, dark like the cafe he was carrying in his other hand, he could help but notice. They full of stars, like she had used so many wonders. She felt older than she looked, so sure of herself that she would show him  amazing things.   
  
Maybe, he thought when she turned their hands to put the palm of his on the handle, maybe he could give it a chance. He had already lost almost everything, everyone, didn’t dare hope to think of what and who might have been left behind. Apart from his life, there wasn’t much else he could lose. He would believe her, he decided, at least for now.  
  
He answered as, together, they pushed the door open, the pain radiating from his hand somewhat less horrible than before.  
  
“It sounds like hope.”


	2. Spaceboy Bebop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony decides this is magic, because this science is so wacky he can't believe it's real science.
> 
> His mug of coffee is empty by now but on the positive side, he can take a shower now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:** Breathing

“Well, that’s more like a spaceship,” Tony said, sipping his sweet sweet hot coffee, as they entered a slick area, the colours different shades of grey. Some whole parts of the wall filled with circular round-thingies that provided the light. “It’s got a very 70s or 80s sci-fi kind of vibe. Not bad. A bit kitsch, sure, but not necessarily bad.”  
  
“This is Me.” Tony was a bit miffed that Diner Girl ignored his comment. Still he looked at the left of the console, where she was pointing.  
  
There was another girl. Or woman, he wasn’t sure, standing with a book in one hand. Me, what a weird name, looked like she could be in her late teenage years like in her twenties. Probably more in her twenties, otherwise she had very irresponsible parents if they let her run into space just like that, but then she was called Me so there was that. Could teenagers even go to space on their own? Tony was pretty sure he would have figured how to do that himself a long time ago if that was possible. Still, Peter had mana— he shut down the trail of thoughts before it became even more depressing.   
  
Me made a cursory glance at them, then nodded before she returned to her reading while pushing a lever down with her other hand. The thing in the middle of the console began moving up and down, making the whirring noise Tony had heard earlier. There was some kind of dialogue exchanged between Clara and her but Tony didn’t pay attention as he was watching over the hexagonal room, with a hexagonal console in the centre, placed on a hexagonal platform.   
  
“Someone sure likes hexagons,” he noted, unconcerned that he had probably interrupted whatever had been going on. “I’m disappointing though, where isn’t there any HUD or holo-screens? You’d think a spaceship would at least have that. I’ve got that and I don’t even build spaceship. No, wait. Maybe I did because Bruce went into space thanks to the Quinjet I made so I might not have intended it as a spaceship to begin with, but it still made into space. And it worked.”  
  
“That was an impressive lot of words coming out of your month in an impressive tiny amount of time. I’m very impressed.”   
  
Tony’s eyes went to the man standing on the other side of the console. He was somewhere in his thirties, bright blue eyes and muscled body that were uncomfortable close to what Tony thought Steve could look like if he was a bit older. And a bit more on the Han Solo rogue-ish charm type. Well, although Han Solo was as tall as Steve, he wasn’t as buff as the good old Captain but then, Cap was a super soldier.  
  
“It’s a special talent of mine, Lover Boy,” Tony shot back with a lazy grin. “I know how to use my mouth in the most efficient ways.” He leered at him, showing just a tiny bit of tongue as he took another sip of coffee.  
  
He saw Clara watching him carefully, eyes narrowed. He ignored her to return his attention to Hot Stuff, whose expression looked so gleeful it would made Tony uncomfortable if he was a lesser man. “I certainly wouldn’t mind testing all the uses you have of that tongue of yours.” He winked at him. “I—”  
  
“Oh my god! You’re another Jack!” Clara let out, managing to express a mix of disbelief, exasperation and amusement. She sounded like Pepper. Tony was positively impressed.  
  
“Come on, Clara. I know you’d totally appreciate two of me.” The other man told her, his smile not less evocative. Tony missed neither the faint blush on young woman’s cheeks, nor her lack of complaint to the remark.  
  
“Get in line, then, Jackie Boy.” He couldn’t be anyone else since he was the only other male in the room. “I’m a well sought-after man after all.” Clara was doing that thing with her mouth where she half-opened it before closing it, probably because she had problems finding an appropriate answer to his brilliance. And damn, Tony couldn’t stop himself, she was practically begging for it. “I must say, Clara. I love your impression of a goldfish.”  
  
Her expression froze on the raised eyebrows and pinched lips of exasperation Tony had grown so used to receive had lost any effect a long time ago. She settled on a simple “Tony!”, immediately followed by “Jack, don’t follow up on that!” then, “Seriously, you two?!”   
  
Clearly, Tony couldn’t help but think, Clara would get along very well with Pepper if they ever met, thus Tony should never introduce them to one another for the sake of his peace of mind. He must have said it aloud because Jack was suddenly asking, “Who’s Pepper?”  
  
“His fiancée,” Clara supplied quite dryly before turning to Tony. “It’d be a pleasure to be introduced to her, Tony.”   
  
Her smile seemed far too pleasant, strangely predatory on an otherwise cute face. “Why are you smiling like that? Stop smiling like that, Clara, it’s scary.”  
  
“Well,” Clara replied far too sweetly. “Between the two of us, I’m sure we could manage to handle the two of you. You need to be reined in, maybe even leashed.”  
  
Jack’s gaze went speculative and very interested. “I’m sure we could arrange something.”  
  
Tony was surprised at how easily the banter went to him after what had just happened, to find a kindred spirit in Jack and Clara’s fond annoyance at them. In the wake of Thanos’ victory, it seemed like a precious, _fleeting_ , instant, like a dream about to stop any moment soon.  
  
This was the reason he wasn’t surprised when Nebula’s dry voice came from behind him. “Cut the crap, the three of you. You.” She pointed a finger at Clara. “You still haven’t shown us how we’re supposed to get to Earth with that _ship_ of yours.”  
  
Just like that, reality came crashing back and the moment was finished. _Pepper, Pepper, Pepper_ , Tony found himself thinking, wondering how pissed off she was at seeing him throwing himself into space a second time. That was if Pepper was still there to be mad at him. Maybe she hadn— No. Not going there. He had to stay focused, take it one step at a step.  
  
First thing first. “How long before we take off? For the engine to start?” The three crew members shrugged at the same time. “O-kay. That really isn’t reassuring, you know.”  
  
“Good question actually.” Clara replied, curiosity all over her face while she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve never measured it. Once we enter the coordinates, a couple of moments at the very most, I guess. It’s quite fast actually.”  
  
“Uh-uh.” Tony wasn’t convinced at all. He let it go though, if only because he would have the satisfaction of telling them ‘I told you so’ when they realised lifting this thing off was be impossible. Instead, he asked, “How long from here to Earth?”  
  
“As Clara said,” Jack intervened. “Fast enough. The longest part of is the dematerialisation and rematerialisation of the ship. The Vortex travel, the proper flying part of the journey, is actually instantaneous. Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that, but for our perception, it’s instantaneous. Well, since we’re in the Vortex already, it’s just the flying and rematerialisation so even faster.”  
  
“There’s a lot of words that came out of your mouth and none of them made sense. And you managed to say it all with a straight face,” Nebula said, walking slowly to the console, pupiless eyes scanning the machine. She turned to him after. “Don’t tell me you believe them, Stark.”  
  
Tony watched the members of the crew, neither women seemed bewildered at the outrageous sci-fi bullshit Jack had just spouted out, like it was an everyday occurrence. Nebula wasn’t entirely wrong. Still.  
  
“Thanos has gems that can alter the fabric of the universe itself, Nebula. Like me, you saw how he’s erased half of the population of the universe in the blink of an eye,” he told her, looking at his injured, useless hand. The blood and ash on the skin, and the tremor that hadn’t faded since Peter had disappeared. “I don’t know if I believe them, I still don’t know how this ‘ship’ is supposed to work.” He lifted his head, making eye contact with Clara. “From where I stand, we’ve got nothing to lose.” He looked away when she smiled at him. His grip on his mug went tighter. “And,” he added looking back at Nebula. “Well, if we’re not having some kind of collective hallucination or Thanos using the Reality Stone on us, that ship—”  
  
“That ship is called the Diner,” Clara piped in. She sounded a tiny bit offended but Tony didn’t feel that bad since she had just  ruined his little speech.  
  
“It’s not a collective hallucination or whoever this Thanos is,” Me said, staring at them with big unblinking steel grey eyes. It was quite creepy so Tony looked away. “You both need to get on Earth, right? Where and when?”  
  
“What do you mean by ‘when’?”  
  
“All of time and space, Tony.” Clara’s expression was mischievous. “I was being literal. We need a date on top of where you want to go.”  
  
“Let me think.” If Clara wasn’t lying, Tony could go back in time to change everything, every mistake he had made. But then, what if he changed things in a bad way and made things worse? He knew himself and his track record. Every single time he tried to prevent bad things from happening, it went awry.  
  
“Take your time, it’s not something we lack. In the meantime, we should probably do something about your injuries.”  
  
Clara wasn’t wrong, Tony realised. He was still bloody and sticky all over with the grim of the fight. It was nothing but gross. He needed it off. That and the fact that he really needed his left hand looked at. At least, he took it as a good thing that he could still feel pain of some sort in it.  
  
“Please tell me you’ve got a med bay and that your ship isn’t just the diner and here. I don’t want to have to wash using the sink in the other room.” There was a distinctly uncomfortable silence in the room that was more eloquent than any voiced answer. “Are you kidding me?”  
  
Nebula snorted. Me seemed far too amused by the situation, while Jack was fondling random buttons on the console. Clara was the only one who seemed at least a bit mortified. Tony decided he liked her better.   
  
“Okay, right.” Tony drained the rest of his cafe, looked around for a place to set the empty mug down. He frowned when he didn’t find any. “Back to the diner then.”  
  
He hadn’t even put his hand on the door handle that Jack spoke, “Not necessary.” Before Tony could ask what he meant, Jack continued, “You’ve got a room now. It might not be a med bay but you’ll at least be able to clean up. Nebula too.”  
  
Blue shook her head, stalking to Me to peer over her shoulder. Her loss. He had to ask however, because apparently, the Diner was not only a time machine but also some kind of space Hogwarts. While he would usually have dismissed the idea of magic, he had just fought alongside a proper wizard earlier. “Are you telling me that your ship just magic’d a room for me in the, what, thirty seconds it took me to turn? I hope not because it sounds like you did.”  
  
“Not ‘magic’d’. It’s got nothing to do with magic. Actually, the Diner to—” he stopped when he saw the dirty look Tony sent him. He sighed. “Yes, let’s just say she did.” He stepped away from the console then, walking to the other end of the room to push a door open that Tony hadn’t noticed before, probably because it looked like part of the wall if one didn’t pay attention. “Come on, I’ll show you.”  
  
“Are you whisking me away for nefarious purpose, Han Solo?”  
  
“Do you want me to?” Jack winked at him.  
  
Tony followed the man into a long corridor, round lights on the ceiling and the floor. The only door they passed through led to a bathroom, Jack informed him. The hallway split in two, the left part stairs going down while the right led up. They took the later up to a large circular room with dark blue couches, armchairs and low tables scattered everywhere, walls covered in shelves with trinkets and books. The light here didn’t come from the ceiling or the ground, but rather Tiffany lamps placed on the low tables. He noticed the six doors equidistant from one another around the living room.  
  
“That one’s Me’s room, then Nebula’s.” Jack pointed to the closest door on their left and the next. He then showed the one directly on their right and the followings. “Then, Clara’s, mine’s and yours. In that order.”  
  
“And the sixth one?”  
  
The other only shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway, go get cleaned up and meet me here when you’re finished. I think I have something for your hand. By the way,” Jack added when Tony approached the door to his room, leaving his empty mug on the nearest horizontal surface. “The door won’t open until you set up a password.”  
  
“Practical.” He watched around attentively but didn’t find anyway to interface with it. The panel was a smooth grey without any asperity to the touch, although it seemed to pulse under his fingers. “How am I supposed to do that.”  
  
“The Diner’s interface is telepathic,” Jack explained. “Think of a word. Well, you must visualise it not just think the word itself. Like, if you choose the word ‘wind’, you can’t just say wind in your mind. You have to think of, for example, the sensation of the wind against your skin. That sort of stuff. The Diner will lock onto that and it’ll become your password. Nobody will be able to enter without knowing it, whether you’re on board or not.”  
  
The connotations were really interesting. If the Diner’s, he was very amused that the ship’s name, interface was telepathic, Tony didn’t think it was that much of a stretch to assume she was sentient. He wondered if she was like an AI woven into the physical structure of the vessel, like his AI were or if it was something else altogether. When he asked Jack more though, the other only snorted and told him to go clean up.  
  
For his password, the engineer had a very precise idea of what he wanted. He thought of the element he had created, its atomic structure as well as the taste of coconut and metal that had came with it when he had installed that Arc Reactor into his chest. He was confident that nobody else would be able to find it and having a safe place of some kind, no matter how temporary, was still reassuring.  
  
When the door slipped on the side with a hiss, Tony gasped. The room was based on his old room in Malibu, one he hadn’t seen in six years, what felt like a lifetime ago now. The walls replicated the ceiling to floor glass window, displaying a once-familiar view on the Pacific Ocean. Probably a hologram constructed upon his memories. He wondered if he could change it. He thought of the wall, then of New York skyline very hard. The image rippled. Much to his glee, it slowly morphed into New York skyline.  
  
The bed was in the middle of the room, a fluffy rug at its foot and the headboard what looked like a massive piece of dark brown wood that went up to the ceiling. Tony stalked around the space curiously, he noted that there were no furniture apart from the bed and the rug, searching for anything interesting. There were hidden containers in the walls and the bed headboard, touch-sensitive empty boxes that would slid off whenever he passed his fingers over them and seemingly melt back into the matter when he was finished with them. It was quite fascinating. Tony wondered what kind of technology was at use there, some kind of advanced nano-technology or something else altogether.  
  
Only then he turned to the second door in the room, across the entrance. It lead into a bathroom, not very large but long, the end of which was separated from the rest of the space by a sliding glass panel. Probably a shower stall. There were nooks in the walls, where he found a sink, mirror, toilet, as well as more containers, some of which had some very welcome toiletries. He chose not to linger on the impossibility of all that being ‘magic’d’ into existence, breaking every law of physics he knew. Not for now anyway. He would fire his questions at the crew later.  
  
When he eventually entered the shower, leaving his dirty clothes haphazardly on the ground, the water was just the right temperature and pressure not to be painful on his battered body. He watched the rosy water mixed with dirt and ash fall on the tile until it turned clear. It didn’t wash the bitter taste in his mouth though. Now that he was alone with his own thoughts, the events flashed into his mind.   
  
Had there been any way to stop things to have gone in that direction? If Quill had— No. He couldn’t let himself wonder about what ifs. Not that he was the best placed to criticise the man’s rage. He had done the same in Siberia two years ago. Everything had been going according to Strange’s plan, Tony reminded himself. On top of that, he now had access to a spaceship that could potentially travel both in time and space. It wasn’t like he had nothing. They had lost a battle, not the war, he told himself. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t nothing to assuage him.  
  
He passed a hand over his face, ignoring the way the scratches prickled at the rough contact, drops of blood on his skin as he inadvertently removed part of the scabs. His other hand was over the Arc Reactor, taping a rhythm, the sound of it vaguely soothing.  
  
The next steps he should take, Tony reflected getting out of the shower and grabbing the nearest towel, should be making his way back on Earth to check out how things were over there and testing what Clara meant when she said they could travel through all of time and space. His clothes had vanished from the floor, he realised with a frown, only for him to find them on his bed. Clean and pristine, as if he battled in them earlier.  
  
“Diner?” he asked aloud. Maybe she could communicate like FRIDAY and answer his questions. That would be awesome if she could. She didn’t though. Tony couldn’t help the pinch of disappointment, which was exactly what he told Jack when he left his room not too long after, once he had put his clothes on, carefully pulling his left sleeve up to stop it from touching the injury.  
  
“The Diner speaks just fine, Tony.” Jack chuckled. “Just not the same kind of language we do.”  
  
“You understand her though.” Jack was playing with a roll of bandage, of an ugly canary yellow colour. Tony had the dreadful suspicion was for him. “Tell me that’s not for me.”  
  
“I’ve got enough experience with that kind of ship. It’s not perfect but we get by,” Jack replied. “Now, come here and let’s take care of your forearm.” He patted the armchair right next to the one he was sitting in.  
  
After Tony did as ordered, he let Jack hold his elbow in order to examine the damage to the forearm. Now that the injury was clean of all grim and dirt, the bright redness that extended from the back of his hand up to his forearm, only stopping shy of the elbow. It might had looked like nothing for now, but Tony was familiar enough with burns to know that it would soon turn into a mess of blisters and peeling layers of skin. He couldn’t even move his fingers without feeling like his nerves were on fire. Although, in a way, it meant that he, at least, had no nerve damage.  
  
“These,” Jack began showing the ugly bandages. “are called healing bandages. There are coated in Medi-Gel that will go into the wound once I wrap your forearm. You’ll note a gradual change in the colour over time, from yellow to white. White meaning the wound has healed. It won’t do anything for the scratching or the pain though.”  
  
“That’s pretty useful.” He watched with fascination the process, the squishy sensation, the Medi-Gel he figured, when the bandages came in contact with his skin as Jack gently wrapped them around his forearm. “Where do you find these? Or better, how do you make them? I need to make these. Can’t be too complicated.”  
  
“You’re from Earth, beginning of the 21st century, right?” Tony nodded. Jack snorted. “It’s still in the future for you then. Unless you manage to find Earthly alien enclaves and markets. You might find some there.”  
  
“Or I could try Wakanda,” he muttered, more for himself than Jack. Also, he made a note to search for alien enclaves on Earth. He had never thought of the possibility but it made sense for aliens to live on Earth. Just because they weren’t seen unless they were homicidal and hellbent on destruction didn’t mean they were none at all. “From the way you’re speaking, I guess you’re not from Earth. Are you even human at all? I mean, you sure seem human but so do Asguardians.”  
  
“I’m very human, albeit not an Earthling. I was born in a human colony called the Boeshane Peninsula in the 51st century.”   
  
Tony had so so many questions at that revelation. How had he end up in the Diner? How was the future compared to now? The evolution of technology since the 21st century and when humans had begun properly colonising space. There were so many things that Jack could tell him.   
  
Jack however spoke before Tony settled on a question to ask, “Here, done.” He released Tony’s limb. “Let’s get back to the console room.”


	3. Blue Trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony starts running. It keeps his mind occupied and his pesky feelings out. Also it’s very fun. Until it’s not. 
> 
> He ends up having to confront his pesky feelings over a mug of coffee and throw his coffee on someone’s face. Not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt:** Stumble
> 
> * * *
> 
> This chapter is on the longer side, as in longer than the two first combined. There's plenty of humour, of bonding between the crew members, some angst and, of course, coffee.

“That’s not Earth,” Tony commented from his barstool, sipping on the coffee he had made himself five minutes ago.   
  
Me, who was sitting on the barstool on his left, eating a slice of apple pie balanced over a small pile of books, snorted. Nebula, who was sitting on Tony’s right and doing maintenance on her wrist, did too. The engineer really had to stop himself from gawking and reaching out because it looked like a gorgeous, exquisite piece of engineering. He had more preservation instincts than that though.  
  
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Clara’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.   
  
She was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, eyes on the busy street outside, bustling with activity and people, some very human-looking except for the flashy skin-colours, others with completely different anatomy like elongated skulls, or raised scar-like marks over the skin. There was much diversity and Tony and his travel companions wouldn’t stick out too much if not for the anachronistic clothes Me and Clara sported. Meanwhile, he was pleased to see that his own clothing didn’t look too much out of place.  
  
“You sure you put the right coordinates in, Jack?” she shot at the man, still in the console room. Whatever was Jack’s answer, it just made Clara huff.  
  
“Does this happen often?” Tony asked curiously.   
  
He took his coffee, slid out of his seat to go to the windows. The street was a large, with a band of vegetation separating their side from the other. The building over there was all long, slick curves forming elegant patterns.  Balconies lined with green went along the sharp lines of the building. At equal intervals, banners were floating, red six-spike star-like form stamped on a dark blue pattern. The geometry of it appealed to Tony’s sense of aesthetic.  
  
“We haven’t got the Diner for long but our trip so far have gone smoothly.” Clara answered, walking up to where he was. There was a small silence, where Tony supposed either Jack or Me had given a look because she added, “Rather smoothly. We might have some turbulences and crash-landed where Nebula and you were but since nobody died, I’d definitely say it went smoothly.”  
  
“I’m definitely happy we weren’t flattened by your ship. That sounds like a bad death.” And a ridiculous one on top of that. Especially after surviving Thanos.  
  
“Depends if you died instantly or not.” He turned to see Jack waltz into the diner, strapping a strange contraption to his wrist. The gun harnessed to his belt hadn’t been there before, neither had the jacket. He looked quite ready for an action-packed adventure. “Back to your question though, the last ship of the same type we travelled in, she was doing that all the time. I’m not surprised the Diner does it too.”  
  
“So, where are we?”   
  
Nebula stopped tinkering. She got to her feet, walking to the diner’s entrance. “The banners are from the Nova Corps.” She stepped outside, keeping the door opened with one hand as the rest of them followed. “This is Xandar,” Nebula said. There was disbelief in her voice as she turned around.  
  
“What’s so special about Xandar?” Me asked.  
  
“The Stones I was talking about earlier?” Nebula must had explained the situation while Jack and Tony had taken care of the later’s forearm because Clara and Me didn’t ask question. “The Power Stone was in possession of the Nova Corps. Thanos destroyed Xandar to get it.”  
  
There was indeed traces of battle. Parts of the ground blasted off, carefully cordoned off by holo-screens. Rubbles had pushed onto the sides of the street in neat piles, away from the path. On multiple buildings, there were scaffoldings, construction crews and vessels buzzing around. Still, it lack the gravity that often came after catastrophes, the heavy blanket of despair and grief one would have expected after a madman raining destruction on the world. Instead, the place was packed to the brim with people, swarming with life, the atmosphere jovial and airy.  
  
“These guys sure look is high spirits for people whose planet has just been destroyed,” Jack commented. He made a sign to the nearest person, a pink girl with neon blue eyes, raised marks around the eyes and over a long nose. “Hello!” Tony snorted, hearing the flirting in his voice.  
  
“Hi,” she approached him, cheeks looking a bit darker. “Can I help you?”  
  
“My friends and me just arrived to Xandar.” He gestured in their general direction. Clearly, the girl was more interested in Jack’s charming smile because she barely spared them a glance. “Mind telling us what happened here? Looks like there was some kind of battle.”  
  
The girl looked enchanted at the attention. She launched into a fast chatter with far too many words and not enough content Tony lost any interest in about two sentences in. Still, he listened with one ear, picking out the most important elements—alien invasion, madman with an Infinity Stone and a group of heroes to defeat him, pretty much the usual—while he watched around. Clara was chatting up with another native, looking completely at ease in a way that showed she had done that countless times before. Nebula, Tony noted, looked shifty, eyes darting around as if she was waiting for something to happen. She seemed high-strung and ready to bolt away, putting her back against the Diner’s door.  
  
“Is it me or Nebula look kinda nervous?” he muttered to Me, who had stayed close to him. “It’s like she’s waiting for the penny to drop. I don’t like it, it makes me nervous myself.”  
  
Of course, that was when the penny dropped.  
  
“Hey, isn’t that the blue bitch that were with Ronan the Accuser!” Someone in the crowd suddenly screamed, “Quickly, someone get the Nova Corps here! Don’t let her escape!”  
  
There was a moment of stillness. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Nebula try and fail to open the Diner’s door. His other travelling companions had all turned in her direction, none of them certain of what to do. On one hand, from what he had gathered, none of them were of the type to leave anyone behind, on the other hand, he really didn’t want to be included in whatever mess Nebula was.  
  
“She’s not alone!” Purple Girl exclaimed, looking far less starstruck by Jack now. “ These people are with her too!” To make things worse, she pointed each of them so none of them could deny any association with Blue. Tony didn’t know what she had done to provoke such a change of disposition and such hostility but it must clearly had been something nefarious.  
  
Pain bloomed in his left wrist, where there was a hand gripping. “Don’t stand still!” He turned his head, ready to give the person a good taste of his repulsor blast, only to find Clara. She tugged, making him wince. “Run!”  
  
He threw his half empty mug at the nearest person’s face.  
  
Then chaos exploded.

* * *

“Silver lining,” Tony coughed, his back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. “We’re alive. And not imprisoned.” Yet, a nasty corner of his mind provided. He didn’t stop staring at the manhole cover they had came through, just in case. “And hey, it’s not too bad as far as sewers as concerned.”  
  
The walls were white, not a single trace of grim or dust. There was a lot of space in the tunnel, with a clearly waterway separating it in two parts. If these really were sewers, these were the best maintained sewers he had ever seen. They didn’t even smell of anything.  
  
“Bad news, we’ve lost Jack and Nebula and we’ll have to get them back before leaving.” Me was rearranging the utility belt fastened around her waist. “Good news, we’ve lost Nebula, which could be worse since we’ve got less chances to be arrested on view if she’s not with us.”  
  
Clara looked at the both of them in turn. “You are awful at reassuring people, you two.”  
  
“I’m not paid to be reassuring, am I?” Tony shot back. “In fact, I’m not paid at all. Not that you could afford me, I’m very expensive.” He winced, the stab wound Thanos had given him making itself known. He knew the nanites would keep it stable long enough but it didn’t spare him the pain when exerting himself, especially when he was running for his life. “So, is that a thing that happens often when you travel? The running for your life part, I mean.”  
  
“You have no idea.”  
  
“Oh, I think I have.” And indeed, Tony remembered earlier, when that person in the crowd had busted out Blue, Clara had been by his side and ready to run before Tony himself had finished completely processing what had happened. And she had run fast, without faltering once, pushing her way through the crowd without problems despite her small stature. For that matter, Me hadn’t had problems following them either.  
  
“So, how are we going to meet up with Nebula and Jack?” Me said after a while, when they had stopped panting and looked a little more collected.  
  
The smile on Clara’s face and the glint in her eyes recked of craziness. Tony, not for the last time he felt, had the distinct impression he wouldn’t like what she was about to say. “No idea, but I’m sure we can improvise something. What can possibly go wrong?”

* * *

“Tell me why we’re doing that again,” Tony muttered through gritted teeth, if only because it was a bad idea to be heard when you were about to break a criminal out of prison.  
  
Fortunately, Nebula was still kept at the Nova Headquarters, awaiting transfer into an off-planet high security prison anytime soon. Of course, Tony didn’t see how he hadn’t seen something like that coming the moment someone had recognised Blue, Nebula was far more than a crazy alien. She also was a psychotic killer, had worked for the psychotic killer who had tried to commit genocide on Xandar only last week for the Xandarians, and Tony had snorted when he had learnt about Quill’s dance off. On top of which, as if that wasn’t enough, she also was one of the children of the psychotic killer who had genocided half the universe.   
  
He wondered how that was his life.   
  
“We can’t leave her here, Tony,” Clara answered, not sparing him a glance. Her attention was on the guards patrolling the surrounding area. They were currently on a bench near the entrance of the lobby, waiting for Me to come back from surveying the place. Tony didn’t know how to feel about the fact that she apparently had a lot of experience breaking into places.  
  
“We totally can. It’s not too late to wait for Me, turn back and leave.” He ignored the dirty look she sent him. The guards were all armed and Tony knew his armour wasn’t functional yet. Also, he added, “I’m not keen on becoming an intergalactic criminal.”

“We can’t leave her here, Tony,” Clara repeated stubbornly. “We’re back in time. With all that we learnt, we can’t exactly let _two_ of her running around. And we can’t let Jack in prison either!”  
  
There was nothing he could say against that because she had a point about Blue. He had seen her fight; she was deadly. It was rather lucky that Thanos had made an enemy of her because he wouldn’t have liked going against her. Especially when she seemed both competent and crazy, or desperate enough, to crash a spaceship right into her own father. A spaceship she had been piloting herself. Tony would have, at the very least, uploaded a distance control matrix into the piloting system to be able to do it while staying safe.  
  
“How are we supposed to extract her? We don’t even know where they keep her in there, don’t we? And what about Jack? We don’t know if he’s been captured or if he managed to get away.”  
  
“Don’t worry about Jack, I’m sure he’s somewhere inside. And fine. He’s got a knack for these kinds of things.”  
  
“You sound awfully sure of that.”  
  
“It’s not my first rodeo with him.” She turned in his direction, a grin etched on her face, cheeks fully dimpled. “Trust me, it’s going to be _fine_.” With the conviction in her voice, Tony had no doubt she had an absolute faith in her words, regardless of if they were true or not. He wished he could believe her.

* * *

Clara had been right. Things had been going suspiciously smoothly. Me had came back disguised as a guard and managed to procure two more uniforms. After going to the bathroom to change, they slipped in the underground part without problems. The guards didn’t spare them a look and much to Tony’s surprise, the locks were surprisingly easy to break. Didn’t even take more than a minute per lock after the first, when he had realised how the things were coded. Actually, it used a language Tony had been intimately familiar with his whole life; the wonderful language of mathematics. The locks hadn’t stood a change.  
  
“I expected more from a planet that looks like it could be in the future,” Tony commented as the door slid open on a hallway. There were two guards behind it. Me had incredible reflexes before she moved before anyone else, she had a black device that definitely was a taser of some sort jabbed into one them.  
  
“Why do they even use Earth mathematics but then,” he continued, keeping an eye on Me when she walked forward them. As a precaution, Tony materialised his right gauntlet. “Mathematics must be universal.”  
  
“Or maybe, that’s just the Diner translating whatever language you saw in something familiar,” Clara replied. “That’s how we can communicate with the aliens. Well, Jack does speak Standard Galactic and I think that Me can too. But as long as the Diner is there, thanks to its telepathic circuits, we should be able to understand alien spoken and written languages.”  
  
That actually made sense, even though. “Still, I could understand Nebula and the Guardians of the Galaxy as well as Thanos before you arrived.”  
  
“It might be translator implants,” Me answered before turning left in a corridor. “These generally let you understand and be understood by the people you’re speaking too.”  
  
At the end was a large door Me didn’t hesitate to push. There were four bodies on the ground, only knocked down, he realised when he crouched to check their pulse.   
  
“I see you’ve been busy,” Me said to the only guard standing, their back against the opposite wall, dark stains on their uniform that looked like blood on the collar and over their neck. Probably not their own since they moved to join them.  
  
They lifted their helmet, only to reveal Jack’s cheerful face, a cocky smile all over it. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”  
  
“I told you so,” Clara commented, elbowing him in the ribs with a far too smug look.   
  
Even though he really wanted to ask how Jack had managed to not only avoid capture, but get in the Nova Corps in the few hours they had been separated, he didn’t.  
  
Instead, he looked at the holograms floating over the central table, console he corrected himself. In the middle was displaying a 3D model of a building. No, he corrected himself as he bent forward to examine it, not building. More like floors. He felt a grin form on his face when he realised that multiple rooms had a thin string tying them to a screen, most of them showing static views of what could only be cells, some of which seemed packed to the brim.  
  
“Ah ah!” he exclaimed. “Would you look at that. That! That’s the future,” Tony couldn’t stop himself from saying. He wished he could strip the console into parts to play with. Instead, he looked at the model more closely. “See the moving green dots here.” He gestured to said dots, crawling all over the place. “These are observation drones,” he gestured to the row of screens that displayed what the robots were seeing. “Obviously, red dots huddled in the rooms are prisoners. So I guess that the blue dots in the hallways are the Nova Corps.”  
  
Then, Jack was next to him. “We’re in the cell control room, right there.” He zoomed by closing then opening his fist slowly. The room was at the end of a long hallway, on the topmost level of the 3D map. The only way down was an elevator they had passed in front of on their way here.  
  
“There’s no other way to get down the cells right?” Clara asked from behind them.  
  
“Guys, I know exactly what to do,” he said when Jack assured them that this was indeed the only way down to the cells. If his companions were worried by the shark-like smirk on his face, they didn’t show it. “What do you think about a prison outbreak? By that, I mean opening all the prison cells at the same time. It’ll be enough of a distraction for Nebula to make her way to us.”

* * *

Once they had came back into the Diner, all of them there and unscathed if not from the tiredness and sweat that went from running a lot, they sat at the large booth in the corner between the counter and the back door. Tony was reminded of the Avengers’ post-missions meal, which had became a ritual of some sort until Ultron, when Tony had taken a step back. He had still eaten with them when visiting the New Avengers Facility but it hadn’t been the same.  
  
It wasn’t as awkward as their first venture, that time in the shawarma place. Instead, at some point, after Jack had said he needed a drink then began preparing coffee and tea, because of course the two British women wanted tea, the rest of them had managed to get moving too. Me had put on the dishes on the table, while Clara, Nebula and him had brought the leftovers they had found.   
  
“You seriously need to do some grocery shop,” Tony commented as he eyed the tupperware full of a suspicious neon green pudding-like thing. It _rippled_ when he poked it with his spoon.  
  
“Yeah, we didn’t exactly have the time before. There’s actually a food machine under the oven but I’d prefer real food,” Me replied. Tony let out a sigh of relief both at hearing that and when she took the blob from him. He pilfered a large slice from the half-eaten apple pie in front of Nebula, ignoring her hiss. “Nebula will have to stay inside, of course. Jack, you could man the diner, actually, you know, open it to the locals. So, Clara, you and me will be on grocery duties.”  
  
After that, the discussion went to recount their little adventure, like Clara called it. Or mostly Jack’s side, since Nebula’s was rather lacklustre; being captured, then fighting her way out of the prison once the cells had been opened.    
  
“For someone not willing to become an intergalactic criminal, you were pretty eager to stage a prison outbreak.” Clara laughed as Jack brought a french press full of coffee along with a tea pot. Tony considered inviting them to his marriage if they continued feeding him. Pepper would probably not refuse, once she had screamed all of her worries and anger at him. He might also use the occasion to tell her he had invited Wong too.   
  
“I’m still not an intergalactic criminal.” Tony pointed out, serving himself coffee and moving closer to Nebula to let Jack some more place to seat, otherwise the man would just seat on his lap. Jack was shameless and had done exactly that earlier when Tony had refused to move. He had learnt his lesson. “Unless they’ve got cams hidden in the bathrooms, which is not very ethical, they wouldn’t have captured our face on cam. Except Jack’s, because he removed his mask when we were in the control room. But he does have the look of a criminal already. No offence, Bronn.”  
  
“None taken, Tony.” Jack’s face seemed to lighten in a way that really made him fit the loveable rogue archetype. “I’ve been called all sorts of things, a lot of them being worse than a criminal.”  
  
“I have no doubt about that.”   
  
Jack certainly had the look of someone who had seen and lived through plenty. So did Clara and Me, actually. None had batted an eye at what had happened, whether it was running from the Nova Corps or accepting his proposition of an prison outbreak without even trying to argue against, Tony had noticed their lack of regards for the danger they had been in and the absence of any kind of panic.   
  
It was impressive, actually, as well as worrying considering none of them seemed to have special capacities from what Tony had seen so far. But then, he reminded himself that the world was filled with baseline humans who had managed to get far on their own. Him being one of these, because he was awesome like that. He certainly hadn’t need any superpowers to become Iron Man, just his wonderful brain and a little bit of incentive. Maybe the Diner’s crew was in a similar case.

* * *

They didn’t have to go far to find what they were looking for. In fact, it was just at the end of the alley on their right once they went out of the Diner. They stepped into an open-aired marketplace, green and grey stalls spread all over. Multiple layers of colourful fabrics had been hung high above their heads, that gave the light different colours. The place was packed to the brim, children running amok and people using their elbows to make their way through the crowd. It felt like he had just walked into a Star Wars movie.  
  
Here and there, he could see triangular pillars, screens showing ads for products on two faces and the last being news, more often than not, footage of the prison outbreak and small mugshots of the escapees, scattered all over. The most dangerous of these got the privilege of a few moments of full screen, many yellow warnings displayed on red bands above and under their picture.   
  
“Good thing we told Jack to stay inside,” Me remarked as they saw a footage from the control room, with Tony hacking into the console and a helmetless Jack, right next to him. The camera had only captured his profile but who knew if the tech the Xandarians had at their disposition would allow them to reconstruct a portrait of him, especially if there were some kind of CCTV in the city. He certainly hoped not. At least, they didn’t have any of their names.  
  
“I was wondering,” Tony whispered to Me when they were examining a food stall, touching and smelling the fruits on display. Well, what were supposed to be fruits accord to the neon lettered sign tied to a side of the stall with wire, spelling out ‘Falber’s Fabulous Flavored Fruits’. “How are we supposed to pay?”  
  
He eyed a pink donut-shaped fruit, with a small shock of purple stringy tentacle-like things at one point. The merchant, whose skin was as pink as the food stuff must have seen him staring because he immediately turned to him and spoke before he could get any answer from the woman.   
  
“Hello, good sir!” He had big yellow eyes and looked far too pleased and excited. Tony was already tired of their conversation.  
  
“Let me guess, you’re Falber? Nice alliteration on the sign, by the way.”  
  
“Yes, sir! I’m Falber, indeed, sir! Thank you, sir!” he replied with an enthusiasm that told Tony the other hadn’t perceived the sarcasm in his voice. He rolled his eyes as the merchant continued, “I see that the Purple-tongued bagberry caught your eyes, sir.”  
  
Tony’s eyes bulged when he heard the name. “Oh my god! Purple-tongued bagberry? Really?”  
  
Either Falber had an impressive ability to being unable to interpret social cues, or human facial expressions were completely alien to him because his next words, showed he thought Tony was truly interested. “Yes, sir!” he answered with all the earnestness of a puppy. “It’s the only one I’ve got left. Since it’s not the season anymore, you won’t find others for the next five years.”  
  
Looking at his right, he could see Clara moving to another stall, holding a full bag in one hand. At his left, Me was pretending she was examining other fruits but he could tell her attention was on him just from the smirk on her lips. He scowled at her.  
  
“What’s so special about your… Purple-tongued bagberry?”  
  
Grave mistake, Tony realised two sentences later, when Falber’s incessant babbling wouldn’t stop. The engineer had stopped listening but the merchant didn’t care that he didn’t care because he just wouldn’t stop speaking.  
  
“Okay, okay! We’re taking it! Just, stop speaking!” he eventually interrupted him, throwing his hands up in the air before cursing when Falber grinned.  
  
Me laughed at him as he mentally swore. Tony should have seen that coming, really. He could only blame himself to have underestimated Falber just because the alien seemed clueless at first. As a business man, this was one of the first trick he had learnt, he should just have walked away.  
  
“It’ll be 156 creds.” Me pushed a four-inches-long rectangular stick in the merchant’s direction, all the while staring at Tony. Falber slid it into a square machine, humming when it biped before he gave it back to Me. “There’s a small recipe pad free of charge in the box” he added, putting the fruit into a fancy blue box before he tried to give it to Tony. He was thankful when Me took it, telling him she give it back when they would be back on the ship. “It was a pleasure making business with you, sir, ma’am!”  
  
“Don’t push it,” Me told him. “C’mon, let’s go.” Tony winced when she wrapped her fingers around his left wrist. He had the distinct impression she had done it on purpose. “Congrats, Tony. That fruit costed as much as a heavy pistol.” She sounded very amused.  
  
“I don’t know how the currency works but I can repay you once we’re back to Earth.”  
  
Me laughed at his words, releasing him to pat his shoulder. “Don’t worry about money, Tony. Take it as a gift for helping out earlier. Plus, it’s your first time off-Earth isn’t it?”  
  
“How do you know? There’s something on my face?”  
  
She watched him with eyes that seemed far too old on her youthful face, before she gently taped the corner of her eyes. “You’ve got that look. The boundless curiosity and wonder of seeing an alien planet for the first time. We all get that look during our first adventures off-world.”  
  
“Does it ever stop?” He paused, gaze lingering around, from all the strange trinkets all over the stalls, most of which he didn’t have a single clue of what they did, an ignorance that made him as frustrated as it pleased him.  
  
When he watched Clara, she had stopped at a booth to chat with its owner, not looking one hair out of place in this alien market, even though her clothes clashed with their fashion. She looked like she was enjoying herself very much, even though from what Tony had seen, it was something she was used to do. She would probably answer no to his question.  
  
Me’s expression though was pensive. It was enough for Tony to know it was a very loaded question for her. He wondered if he should push her buttons until she cracked and spilled out the beans before he realised that she hadn’t had shown any obvious buttons to push so far. Instead, he told her to forget it then proceeded to needle her about the money she had used to pay for the Purple-tongued bagberry.

* * *

By the time they came back, there was no customer. Jack welcomed them with a smile, telling them that Nebula had probably retired to her room. He finished cleaning the diner while they put the groceries away. Soon, after the crew had gotten the Diner in what they called the Vortex they had called it a night. Tony found himself back in his room, a pile of what he had gotten on top of the overpriced tentacle fruit at the feet of his bed, only putting aside some of the clothes he had taken because he wasn’t about to spend more time than necessary in his sport wear. Especially to sleep.  
  
Much to his surprise, he didn’t wake up addled by nightmares the day after.  
  
They spent it in a mining planet call Quark in a tiny system located in the Rosette Nebula. The locals, a species of giant armadillos with crystals growing on their armour, the Quarken they called themselves, had been absolutely enchanted to have them there and let them visit the large, gorgeous caverns of the mineral they were mining. Stardust gem, they called it, a rather straightforward name for nebulae and star systems contained within a black crystal. It was like holding a bit of space within his hands and it was wonderful. When they helped them deal with landslides because of some faulty equipments that Jack and him managed to patch up while the other where making sure the workers were all being led to safety, the giant armadillos let them have pick a refined stardust gem per person as well as some food left from the meal thrown in their honour. That night, he dreamt of the stars within the underground cavern and the songs of the gentle giants.  
  
After what, they ended up in space-station larger enough to house the population of an entire continent, one billion people lived on there the terminals told him, running as fast as possible to stop space pirates from taking over. The common point in their travels, Tony realised the day after the pirates, when they had been roped into helping an old red horned alien with a pig snout fix the shields supposed to protect his village from the expected violent solar flares to come, was that they were always running. Whether it was a race against the clock, running from something or after someone. It didn’t miss. It was the same every single time.  
  
The end result was that his adventures kept him too occupied to think or too tired to dream whether his head hit the pillows. He couldn’t argue with that result. 

* * *

The morning of the fifth day after leaving Titan in the Diner, Tony woke up to the ground vibrating under him. He groaned, realising he had fallen, or rolled, out of bed. Since there was no point in going back to bed now that he was awake, he went to the bathroom.  
  
His healing bandages had turned paler, a mustard yellow instead of canary. It wasn’t ideal but it was still better than the bright abomination. His limb had stopped hurting if he kept it still, but it was still sore at all time. And since he was rarely still, even if he was as careful as he could allow himself to be, he still forgot half the time that he wasn’t supposed to move it until the pain flared.  
  
After a fast shower, Tony checked on the bruises littering his body, making sure they were coming along nicely. He couldn’t help but trace the scar running along his abdomen, where he had been stabbed, the feeling of the nanites working under the surface to repair the injury more acute than usual. Of course, it meant that repairing his suit would take longer since that was less nano-machines working on it. Being amongst people who didn’t rely on any kind of apparent superpowers however didn’t make him feel inadequate for the lack of it. He missed it, of course, but the absolute need for it he had had in the past whenever he had been separated from his Iron Man skin hadn’t hit him yet.  
  
He chose to put on the clothes he had been wearing his first day before leaving his room, jacket thrown over his shoulders. The living room was empty, as was the newly redecorated console room. Two nights ago, they had woken to a control room that had lost all the old sci-fi corniness for darker hues.   
  
The grey walls had been replaced by burgundy, lined with a large blackboard on one side and bookshelves and benches. Stairs lead from the living quarters to the central platform, now elevated enough that there was another level under it, although there was nothing there, yet according to both Clara and Jack, except the transparent column going from ground to ceiling that contained what Tony had learnt was the time rotor, that now emitted a soft golden light. The round things were still there, a row of dark blue neons running along the ceiling.  
  
He was alone, he knew as soon as he saw that the door leading to the diner proper was closed: they had taken the habit to let it open whenever they were off-planet and not in business, facilitating the communication since they tended to spend all their time split in the diner and the console room.  
  
When he opened the back door, Tony stilled, swearing at the spaceship’s disastrous timing. His eyes didn’t leave the man standing beyond the glass doors of the Diner. Shame settled in the pit of his stomach as he became fully aware that during all that time spent on the spaceship, everything that should have been important had somehow slipped into a far corner of his mind, not quite forgotten but nothing more than a passing thought.  
  
Now that he was on Earth, because there was no way _Steve Rogers_ would be anywhere but on Earth, Tony didn’t know what to do. Much to his mortification, he actually considered turning around and go back, hide, in his room. Of course, he wasn’t stupid, had known he would have to see Steve and the other Avengers again, _talk_ to them if they had any chance to deal with Thanos. The Sokovia Accords and Siberia hadn’t changed that. His head had been filled with aliens for the past six years, an army waiting in deep space to seize the planet he loved and steal his loved one away.  
  
Even though he had wanted the power to defend it by himself. He tapped his casing in a nervous gesture he hadn’t made these past few days. He had made and remade himself into a better version of Iron Man until he had managed a symbiotic relationship with his armour, in a way that let him _protect_ people better than he had ever been able before.   
  
Despite that, he had known he wouldn’t be enough by himself. For god’s sake, he had had a team and a good plan on Titan and it hadn’t worked.  
  
By the way the Captain was frowning that the handle, pushing it to no avail, he probably had the same problem as Nebula back on Xandar. _Come on, Stark_ , he told himself. _You can’t avoid this forever._ Still, even though he was aware he had to get past his issues and _talk_ to Steve, he couldn’t bring himself to move. A part, a very petty and ugly part of himself just wanted the other man to keep trying opening a door Tony knew wouldn’t open for him, then lifted his eyes up and notice Tony inside, out of his reach as he laughed at the fact that Captain America was locked out.  
  
Steve was still oblivious to him and Tony still wasn’t sure on how to act. Not when he felt a shaking in his left arm that had nothing to do with pain and a heaviness over his chest, where the shield had been rammed into. He closed his eyes, feeling the phantom cold he had thought he had gotten rid off.  
  
“Hello, Tony.” The hand over his shoulder startled him. He turned to face Clara, whom he hadn’t heard coming. Today she was wearing a simple off-white jumper with three-quarter sleeves, dark burgundy tight pants and boots with only the minimal amount of heels, which made sense with the amount of running they spent doing.  
  
“You don’t look so good. What is it?”  
  
“I’m fine.” She took a step forward, standing far too close, her big dark eyes staring at his face without blinking. Even though she had to look up, her head slightly tilted on the side, Tony felt small and cornered. “Don’t do that, it’s creepy.” Relief filled him when she eventually took a step back, not missing how she glanced at Steve before looking back at him with a humph.  
  
“Make some coffee and tea while I welcome our guest?” It sounded like a question but Tony had spent enough time around bossy people, especially bossy women to know an order when he heard one. Clara should have been a redhead, he thought as he watched her swagger to the entrance with the confidence of someone who knew they were going to be obeyed.  
  
“You’re not the boss of me,” he replied sounding as exactly as petulant as he had wanted to. Still, he moved behind the counter because he had already in mind to get to the coffee machine to begin with, but also because the counter would provide a barrier between Steve and him once he would be in.   
  
“Of course I’m your boss, old man,” Clara replied as she opened the entrance door. “You’re squatting my spaceship and my coffee.”   
  
He stubbornly keep staring at the coffee machine, his back turned to the entrance. He was sure that Diner Girl and Cap were exchanging some words but he couldn’t hear them over the buzzing sound in his ears. The air grew stuffier as he felt the weight of a stare on his back. He hoped he wasn’t as sweaty as he felt. It was college all over again, when he had seen all these people trying so hard to appear casual and stealthy at ignoring people they hated but had to share a room with.   
  
At the time, Tony had laughed at them all, because he hadn’t gone through these particular struggles. He had already been too much of an asshole and too busy to care about such things as socially awkward situations. He remembered Rhodey and Pepper teasing him, telling him he was acting like a scorned divorcee after the break up of the century. He had replied that this was totally his prerogative considering half the team had gone with Captain America.  
  
Karma, once again, showed it was a bitch.   
  
He let himself until he finished a teapot of some Xandarian tea, for when Me would get up, along with a pot of Quarken coffee, the bitterest coffee he had ever tasted so far, to finish panicking and collect himself because he was being ridiculous.  
  
“Cap, fancy meeting you there,” he greeted him the moment the beverage were ready. He felt proud of his cam-ready smile. “I must say, love your new style. All rugged and outlaw-y. You must have quite the success with the ladies,” he added before Steve to place a single word. The other blinked stupidly at him, seemingly at a loss for words.  
  
“Tony,” Clara said, once Tony had put the French press and teapot on the counter, along with three mugs. She had an eyebrow raised at him in disapproval.  
  
“Do I look like a Starbucks barista, Diner Girl?” He mimicked her expression. Still he got out the sugar and bullshit creamy milk that Clara drowned her coffee in. “You still put syrup in that disgusting thing you call coffee?” he asked Steve, although he was already reaching for the Xandarian chocolate syrup, the only one they had actually. He put it on the counter, maybe with a bit more force than he had intended: the sharp noise startled Steve. Tony had no regrets.  
  
“Tony…” Steve began, with that expression that said whatever words he would spew would make Tony icky. Something must have shown on his face because Cap closed his eyes, then took a deep breath. “You remembered?”  
  
This probably wasn’t what Steve had wanted to say. It was undoubtedly better, but Tony still found himself scoffing. “It’s coffee, of course I remember.” He wanted to remind Steve that there were actually very few things he forgot, which was as much a blessing as it was a curse. “Especially when you take it in such make such a waste of good coffee. You offend me, the both of you. Why do I even put up with you?” Clara lowered her mug to reveal a large grin. Steve’s smile was tiny, but Tony was reassured the blond hadn’t taken his rhetorical question in the wrong way. He didn’t think he would have but these days, after a two years long silence, he wasn’t sure where they stood.  
  
He didn’t think Steve himself knew where they stood.   
  
“I thought we had lost you in space, aboard one of these alien ships,” Steve said, straight to the point because Captain America had no chill and the subtlety of a bull. “I’m happy to see you looking okay.”  
  
Tony carefully ignored the last sentence: he had problems dealing with his own feelings on the best days, he certainly was _not_ ready to deal with Steve’s. The first part though, that was easy to address. “I was on the alien spaceship—” _with Strange and_ Peter, he finished in his mind because he would never be able to talk about him aloud.   
  
Just thinking about trying tied his stomach in knots so he doubted he’d managed to tell his name, even if it was his heroic pseudo, without triggering the anxiety attack that had been brewing under the surface since he had stepped into the diner and seen Steve waiting beyond the doors.  
  
“We.” he tried, testing the pronoun. It didn’t sound good, but it didn’t sound bad either, especially since it let Tony avoid any mention of Underoos. “We,” he repeated, feeling a bit more confident. “managed to kill the slimy bastard who was piloting the spaceship, then still went all the way to Titan to ambush Thanos. Not that it worked obviously,” Tony added bitterly, not looking at Steve. “Since he still managed to wipe half of the universe away.”  
  
If Cap answered something, Tony didn’t pay attention because the loud whirring of the time rotor resonated, followed by a vibration under his feet. “Seriously,” he let out, eyes going to Clara who, albeit a bit surprised didn’t seem disturbed at all, while Steve had raid to his feet, looking around frantically. “Sit your ass down, Cap! It’s fine. Just grab your coffee before it spills,” he told him before he hunched over his own mug, holding it with one hand while he gripping the counter tightly with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, the Diner is quite capricious but in her defence, so is the Doctor's TARDIS. Speaking of which, if the format feels familiar, it's because I'm indeed going for a DW-like episodic style, which is easier for me to deal with the prompts I'm writing for.
> 
> The chapter ended up so long because I hesitated about whether placing Tony's reunion with Steve at the end of the chapter or at the beginning of the next one before deciding to put it there so I could concentrate on their interactions starting from the next chapter.


End file.
